Looking Forward
by Fliptailser
Summary: Before leaving Corneria with Fox for a winter vacation, James McCloud decides to show his son something he's been working on for a long time. Contest entry.


**Note:**

**This story is an entry for Chimerical Knave's little forum contest. The prompt was simply "Ain't it grand?" and it had to be incorporated in some way, whether verbatim or abstractly. The word limit was 7000.**

**Leave a review if you've got the chance, and thanks for reading!**

* * *

**Looking Forward**

Faint wisps of exhaust drifted up from the lone car as it idled, defiantly parked on an otherwise barren lot.

James watched from the driver's seat as his son slowly approached. Surprisingly, the kid had ditched his favorite light jacket in favor of a new one with the Academy insignia. And he'd given himself a crew cut! The only thing missing was a pair of black sunglasses, and then he'd be the spitting image of his father.

Fox craned forward a bit as he walked, obviously trying to see through the car's tinted glass. James saved him the trouble by rolling down his window.

"Fox!" he called, raising one hand in greeting.

Fox's face lit up, and he trotted the rest of the way to the car. "Hey, Dad!" he said, stowing his luggage in the trunk before jumping in the passenger's seat. "Why'd you pick me up here? It's not even part of campus anymore."

"That's why I like it, Fox," James said as he put the car in gear. "You know how I am. I don't want any fans mobbing us."

"Come on, Dad. You're not _that _famous."

"Oh yeah? I bet half your friends have me on a poster somewhere. This is a flight school we're talking about. And I'm a graduate!" James grinned as he turned onto the highway. "So I guess Bill couldn't come?"

"Nope… he told me he's seeing family somewhere. I wanted to ask my friend Falco instead, 'cause he'd probably be up for it, but I couldn't find him after class. He's this second-year pilot. I think he sorta wants to meet you."

"Does he? What kind of pilot is he?"

"He flies jets like me. He gets high scores all the time on the simulators."

James shook his head. The simulators were _games _now. "How do they score you, exactly?"

"It's really detailed—like they tell you exactly what the perfect pilot would do."

"But there's no such thing as a perfect pilot, Fox. Who are they to say there's only one route to take? One pilot's heroic maneuver is another's foolish gambit. Just ask Peppy."

"I don't know, Dad—you tell the instructors then."

James loosened his grip on the steering wheel. He had to go easy on the preaching. "School's great and all that. I just want you to know that in real life there aren't high scores. Don't wear yourself out looking for that one right answer. Because chances are, there won't be one. You just have to deal with things, you know?"

"Um, yeah?" went Fox. "I guess?"

Was it still too early for that? Was he still too young to hear all those real-life-is-crappy speeches? James didn't want to bother him with all the gloomy stuff… Was it better to tell him in advance, or let him make his own mistakes?

James chose the easiest solution: Change the subject. "Hey, before we leave for Aqas, I'm gonna show you a surprise. A pretty big surprise."

Fox shifted in his seat. "Where is it?"

"That's a surprise, too."

Fox rolled his eyes, but with a smile. "Can't wait." He sat still for about half a minute before giving in: "Can't you just tell me?"

"I'll let it speak for itself."

"…What's _that _supposed to mean?"

James held back a grin. "I'm just playing, Fox. How's school? What're they teaching first-years now?"

Fox leaned back. "Well, we learned about pitch and yaw and all the instruments in the plane. And a bit of history. And math… I mean, it's kinda boring."

"No flying at all?"

"Oh yeah, I flew. Last week I got to try out the simulator."

"And? How was it?"

No response. James glanced to his side and saw Fox gazing out the window.

"I crashed, Dad," he murmured. "I flew into the ground."

The kid was bummed by _that?_ James chuckled. "Fox, screwing up's the best way to learn. That's why they _have_ flight simulators. You'll never fly into the ground after that, I bet."

"Maybe."

James crashed quite a few times, actually. Back in the day, he practiced with slow recreational planes; when he first tried the jet simulator, he flew straight into a cliff. But each time he crashed, he became a better pilot. "What plane models are the simulators now?"

"Well, for the fighter jets they're called CX94s—"

"Tarning CX94s?" James shook his head. "Those were top of the line back when I was in school. Everyone had posters or little models of 'em. We fly the newest model now, the CX102, but they've still got that old-school feel."

"So our sims are for _old_ planes?"

"I'm sure they've tweaked things to keep them up to date. How well does Falco do, besides getting high scores?"

"He never comes close to crashing at all. It's just that… in team missions he refuses to be a wingman. It's like he'd rather do the whole team mission himself. So he only gets bad scores on team scenarios."

"Which do you think is better, then?" asked James. "Being a solo ace, or being a team player?"

"…Can't I be a team ace?"

James chuckled. "Maybe. Both approaches have their strengths and weaknesses. But no matter what your style is, never forget this, Fox, because it works no matter what. Always—"

"—trust your instincts," Fox finished.

"Actually, I was gonna say… keep your friends close. But I'm glad you remember that."

The road curved and merged into a coastal highway, and Fox perked up as soon as the sea came into view. The beach wasn't James's surprise, though—they'd be going to Aqas soon already, which was all the watery fun of the beach without the issue of getting sand everywhere.

There were a few families enjoying themselves regardless, with kids digging in the sand and splashing as waves slid in. Some older guys were throwing balls around and flying kites in the blustery coastal winds.

When James stopped at a red light, Fox pointed up at the sky. "See that blue one?"

One of the kites looked like a futuristic fighter plane—gray and bright blue, with wings angled back. It darted in circles around all the other kites, like it was convinced it was a real plane. It was the best… and probably the most expensive.

James really liked it, even if it was just a toy. "Looks pretty cool," he said. "I wonder if that's a real plane it's modeled after."

"No way. It's gotta be from a videogame or something."

"Or a sci-fi movie." James returned his attention to the road as the light turned green. "Don't worry, we're almost there."

Fox let out an impatient sigh. "This better be good, Dad."

James smiled. "Relax. It is."

He hoped it was, at least.

* * *

"Here we are, Fox," James announced. "This is one of the biggest private shipyards on Corneria. It goes all the way 'round that lake."

James took the car along a road circling the shipyard's lake. The shipbuilding sites never strayed far from the water, and half-built boats and large piles of building materials accompanied each one. Each one was like a small construction site.

"I remember when there were only a couple little boats here," James said wistfully. "Your gramps and I would… borrow one, and go fishing."

"So the surprise is a boat? You got a boat?"

"A ship. Something like that." James chose not to reveal much, because the surprise was close. He took a side road going uphill, away from the lake. "You'll see."

"This shipyard makes planes too, doesn't it?" asked Fox. James left him hanging for just a while longer.

The side road eventually came to an end. In front of them was a much larger building site site, with scaffolding at least five stories high. No one was around, but that only meant James and his son could stay and talk as much as they wanted.

Fox scratched his head. "Looks like you bought a skyscraper, not a ship."

"It's a ship all right." James parked the car and climbed out. "Let's just look around the corner here."

James led the way around the base of the scaffolding, to where they could get a good view of the ship. It towered over them, looking way too large to be a vehicle—yet it was a spaceship. Its humongous hull rose up a few stories before exposing its metal framework.

"It's called the Great Fox. Isn't it great, Fox?" James chuckled, having a seat on the grass. "Still has several months to go, but imagine flying it!"

"This is yours?" Fox sat next to his father and stared up at the half-built ship. "What kind of ship _is_ it, anyway?" He had a look of awe that told James the surprise was worth it.

"It's a mothership. It'll base our 102s and carry 'em in outer space. Peppy and I have been talking for a long time about doing big missions in space, and now we have the ship for it. Imagine—two giant laser cannons in front. Enormous boosters in the rear. Decent energy shields. It's on par with Cornerian Destroyer ships! Or Dreadnoughts. I forgot which."

Fox didn't say anything for a while. He looked a bit conflicted, like he was holding his tongue. He just stared up at the Great Fox, pondering something.

After a few minutes he said, "Mom would be amazed to see this."

So that's what was on his mind. Fox usually never mentioned her, mostly because James was the same way, but apparently the ship had stirred up something. "This _was _your mother's idea," James said. "She always thought out of the box. She was the one who convinced me we could use a huge ship like this. I wanted to name it after her, but she didn't like it…"

Fox plucked some blades of grass and fiddled with them. "She wasn't a pushover."

"That's why I loved her."

"Was she okay with you flying away all the time, on missions?"

James glanced sideways at his son. The last time the two of them had talked at length about her was… years ago, when some kid at primary school had been bullying Fox about it. But those talks were different. Back then, they were trying to cope with it. To bury it once and for all, so the two of them could go on happily with their lives. But now Fox was digging it back up, because he wanted to _know _her. He was finally asking those difficult questions, the ones that forced James to bring back the past. To remember her lovely copper fur, shining eyes, and constant support…

"Was she okay with it?" James said. "No, she didn't like it that much," James said slowly. He smiled. "But it's my thing, and she knew that. Eventually we both realized that rounding up outlaws is the only thing I'm real good at."

"Would you… still do mercenary things, if you had all the money you needed?"

"If she was still around, I'd quit in a heartbeat. But now… I mean, it's still what I'm best at…"

James went silent. He loved his work, but it didn't go well with raising a family. Fox's mother died because James had enemies; James would never be able to tell Fox that, but he'd never glamorize the baddie-hunting either. If James had all the money he needed… _would _he quit? Or would he keep spending the money on Team Star Fox like always?

"…Well, that's a tough question, Fox," was all he said.

"Sorry."

"You don't have to apologize."

After a tense moment, Fox asked another question: "Dad, remember when you said there's good and bad for being solo or a team player? What's bad about being a team player?"

James took a deep breath, relieved to talk about something else. Something less complicated. "Well… when you're a team player, the team just becomes a part of you. You rely on them, they rely on you. Together, you can get the most impossible things done. But if someone you trust decides to turn against you, it can be over." James snapped his fingers. "Just like that." After seeing his son's shocked look he added, "But you don't have to freak out. You just need to pick your teammates wisely. Peppy and I go way back, and Pigma and I owe each other so much that we lost count. Our kind of team is one in a million, and bulletproof too. If you're a loner, on the other hand, no one can get close to you… but then you're alone."

James got up—he needed a break from the serious talk, and he knew Fox did too. "Let's go by the lake," he said. Fox followed a bit absentmindedly, obviously still going over James's words.

"How much did it cost?" asked Fox as they walked downhill to the lake. "The mothership?"

"A lot. Too much, maybe." The price tag was astronomical, and Fox didn't need to worry about it. "Yeah… Beltino's a genius, but he doesn't look at cost at all. He thinks we can afford to design _another _new ship—a fighter that works in both atmosphere _and _outer space. _I_ think my bank account's just gonna collapse into a black hole and disappear."

"That sucks." Fox glanced back at the Great Fox in the background, as if reassessing its worth. "Well, maybe you can design a cool unique plane, like that kite we saw."

"If Beltino puts some brand new tech on it, it might be worth all the debt. I know for sure he has this thing called the g-diffuser he's dying to try out. He says it'll totally change the way I fly, and I'm not sure I believe him.

"Anyway, Beltino's son Slippy is coming with us for a bit this winter. He's visiting Aqas again too, and I figure it'll be a good way for you two to get to know each other. He's interested in being a pilot like you, even though he's more of an engineer from what I can see."

They made it to the lake just as the sun was starting to set. The water always had a shine to it at that time of day, throwing around the warm colors of the darkening sky. It was a sight James had seen many times before, but it was Fox's first time. James wondered if his son liked it… or just thought it was boring.

But Fox wasn't exactly looking at the scenery. He was watching someone at the lake, standing by the water's edge. A young falcon by the looks of it, barely older than Fox, with well-kept blue feathers and determined eyes. He was dragging a brand-new seaplane out onto the water, grunting from the exertion.

"I wonder what that kid's up to," James said, crossing his arms. "You like that seaplane? It sort of looks like a baby jet, doesn't it?"

Fox didn't respond. He was actually gaping a bit, as if seeing an avian by the shore was somehow shocking.

Then he said, "It's Falco, Dad!" before running off to talk to the falcon kid. James followed at a slower pace, amused and impressed by the coincidence. He'd get to meet this hotshot after all… if he didn't fly away first.

That's what appeared to be happening. Fox stood and watched as the seaplane slowly floated away from land, with Falco seated in the cockpit. When James reached the lake's shore, he didn't stop walking—he wasn't afraid to get a little wet.

"You wait there, Fox," he told his son as he splashed through the ankle-high water. By the time he made it to the seaplane, it went up to his knees.

The seaplane's door was beyond his reach because the craft was floating on the water, but that didn't stop James from rapping on its side with the back of his fist. After a second, the cockpit opened with a loud click, and Falco peered down at him.

"I'm doin' maintenance here," was his greeting.

"You're a bit too young to be working as a mechanic here, Falco," James said coolly, climbing up from the water. As James took the copilot's seat he added, "I'm James McCloud, Fox's dad." He extended his hand, his pants dripping with lake water.

The look on Falco's face was priceless, but he soon shook James's hand firmly. "I knew it, man," he said. "Fox looks just like ya." He glanced around the cockpit nervously, probably not knowing what else to say. "You're an amazing pilot. I follow the stuff you do."

"So you and Fox are friends?" James asked, just to get things rolling. He realized it made him sound like the classic prying father.

"Well, I guess so," Falco shrugged. "Lombardi, McCloud… in some classes we get seated together. Yeah, I guess we're friends."

James made a point of glancing over at the seaplane's console, which had a tangle of wires spilling out. "I might as well cut to the chase now, Falco. This seaplane is clearly not yours. It actually looks like you're… trying to hotwire it."

Falco sighed. "Look, Mr. McCloud—"

"James."

"I just wanna fly a plane, that's all. Like the real deal, not some computer game."

"…So you decided to steal someone's brand new seaplane? No, I don't think you're that dumb. What's really going on?"

The falcon looked away—he was obviously deciding whether or not to tell the truth. James let him take his time.

"I won't lie to ya. I'm trying to join this… group."

"A gang, then."

"Well, sorta. They're pilots, not your typical thugs."

"So a gang of pilots."

Falco sighed again. "Might as well jump out now and save myself the trouble, huh? When you're caught by James McCloud, there isn't much you can do…"

James shook his head. "It's impossible to hotwire modern planes like this without some hacking, I hope you know that." Falco was trying to bypass the plane's ignition like it was some old car, but that simply wasn't possible nowadays. Falco would only zap himself or ruin the plane.

Fox's semi-delinquent friend watched as James reached over and stuffed the cables back under the seaplane's instrument panel. Then, to the bird's surprise, James reached inside his pocket and pulled out an electronic key, plugging it into the plane's console. The engines started with a low hum, and the lights on the dashboard glowed brightly.

"This is my plane, Falco," revealed James. "We're going to fly it around on Aqas… but I think some real flying would be good for you. You're right that simulations don't do it justice."

"Really? I can use this?"

"No, I stole the plane key just so I could lie to your face."

"Alright, alright. Thanks a lot, man."

"I'm letting you do this because flying is important to you, not because of your gang. Don't let them change what you're willing to do or not do."

"Uh. Thanks, I'll remember that."

"And don't crash my plane!"

"Got it." Falco gazed at the dashboard. "How fast can a seaplane be, anyways?"

"You'd be surprised." James got up and climbed out of the cockpit. "We're taking this plane with us soon, so don't take too long."

"It'll be over before you can say 'grand theft aero.'"

* * *

Half an hour later, Falco was standing on the hill with James and Fox. It was just about nighttime.

"This is yours too?" said the falcon, staring up at the Great Fox. "How many ships can one fox own?"

"Actually, I'm pretty broke now because of this," James said.

"Man, I wanna be in a crew like Star Fox, with a huge spaceship like this," Falco said wistfully. "I'll be the ace pilot, and at the end of the day I'd say, 'Ain't it grand? We get _paid _to kick ass.'"

James had a lot to say to that, but Fox spoke up first: "I'd be the leader, like my dad."

"Mercenary business has many elements to it," James said. "It's rewarding in so many ways, but it has its drawbacks too."

Falco turned around and looked James in the eye. "Just watch, McCloud. I'm gonna be famous one day, in the best mercenary crew around. You can count on it." He began to walk down the hill. "I'm gonna head off now. See ya later. And thanks for lettin' me fly." Soon he was out of sight.

"You've got an interesting friend there," James said. "He's got that fame and fortune mentality I'm not a fan of, but also the determination. And the talent, looks like. I'd bring him along for the vacation, but I have the feeling he'd just get bored."

"Dad, it's kinda sudden and random, but can I ask you something?"

"You can always ask me anything."

"I was just wondering… when I graduate, can I join Star Fox? I've decided… that's what I wanna do, Dad."

James wanted to say yes immediately, but he had to think for a minute. Star Fox had changed his life permanently—he was successful and pretty happy, sure, but he'd never have the family he'd been longing for. James had enemies, and like any police chief or mobster, McCloud had to live with the fact that his lifestyle put his family at risk. Was it really alright to put the kid in Star Fox and give him that same life? What if Fox was doomed to have the same kind of ruined family? If he found someone he really loved, would he be able to quit flying at her request? Or would history just repeat itself?

James took off his sunglasses and sat down on the grass. The Great Fox towered over him, a constant reminder of how his team was such a big part of his life. Fox sat next to him silently. He knew James was about to say something very important.

"Fox, sometimes I wonder if I've been a good father to you. I mean, I'm always gone working, and the only places you see me are on the news and on your friends' posters. I don't want you to think you have to be a mercenary. You could drive a taxi, for all I care. As long as it makes you happy, I'll support you every step of the way.

"The reason I'm sorta choked up about this is because your mother… your mother wanted me to quit. She said family was more important than rounding up the evildoers. I agree with her now, but back then… I was like Falco back then. The grandness of life was all in the money. I told myself I had to make my mark on the world. Now that she's gone, everything feels just a little hollow. I've made my mark, and I don't feel special about it. I just feel guilty that I wasn't there for you and her.

"We used to talk about your future. We both loved the idea of you becoming a pilot, but she didn't exactly want you jumping into my mercenary shoes. Can you imagine her loneliness if we were both gone all the time? And we might simply… not return one day. I didn't see it then, but you know what they say about hindsight.

"My point is… If there's anything my entire life has taught me, it's that the things you appreciate and enjoy change. This is more important than trusting your instincts, Fox. If you want to be happy, then don't… don't let the past tell you what you should be doing. If you feel like quitting, quit. If you wanna stop shooting down baddies and become a racer or something, Fox, just do it.

"When you're old enough, you can join Star Fox. I'm sure Peppy would love it. We'll be an awesome team, don't get me wrong. Who knows, maybe Falco can join us too, if he isn't too busy with that gang of his. But your life's gonna change in the middle of all this, Fox. You might find a girl you love, or something. And if she tells you to quit, or something inside you says it, don't be afraid to. I won't stop you. Hell, I'll punch anyone who does.

"'Ain't it grand, we get paid to kick ass.' Those are Falco's words. But I'd say… Ain't it grand that I can just sit here with you and talk about everything? Ain't it grand that after all this crap I've seen, all this misery and false hope and hollowness, after all that, I can still see things in the world around me and say they're worthwhile? It's like I can appreciate everything now, even kids who hotwire seaplanes."

"I still think I want to be in Star Fox, Dad. I mean… I do want to be a famous pilot like you."

"Well, okay. I'm just saying you don't have to do the same thing forever. That was my mistake. It can sort of get old, and that's alright."

"But you still love flying."

"Well, Fox..." James hesitated for just a second. "The short answer is yes—you can be in Star Fox once you graduate. You better do well in school though, hear me?"

"Promise I can?"

James stood up. "You know I don't like making promises, Fox. You got my answer already."

"...Thanks, Dad." Fox looked toward the lake, where the seaplane was waiting for them. "So you really bought that seaplane too?"

"Why not, huh?" James chuckled and repeated Falco's words one last time, with a bit of irony in his voice: "Ain't it _grand?_"

They walked back downhill to the seaplane. James had already explained his chat with Falco, so Fox talked a bit more about school and then the conversation turned to Aqas and scuba diving. James wished Fox's mother could be there with them, just taking it easy and getting ready for a great vacation. But the past was unchangeable, so he just kept his eyes on the future. Despite all his worries, he looked forward to flying with Fox on the team… if that's what the kid really wanted.

"Fox?"

"Yeah, Dad?"

"I'm not trying to be downer—we're gonna have a real cool vacation. And then you'll go back to school for a few more years… join Star Fox if you want… and then we'll kick some tail together. So if this bittersweet stuff is too much for you, or if you just don't get it, remember one thing for me. 'Trust your instincts' is my advice for the heat of the moment, but once the day's through, and you're looking back…

"Don't worry about the mistakes, son. Don't… regret them."

"Okay…" Fox was facing the other way, looking out the plane's window at the landscape below. Whether or not he was doing so to hide his emotions, James couldn't tell. It didn't matter. "Dad, I want _you _to remember something for me."

"Huh?"

"I won't let you down."

"I never imagined you would."

Maybe James could take his own advice. The past and all its mistakes were over, plain and simple. The future… now _that _was grand, wasn't it? No matter how long you've lived your life, or how wise you think you've gotten, you can always look forward to the uncertainty of what's to come. The future was exciting back then… and it still is now.


End file.
